Sunday, March 26. Docked in Abidjan. Hot, 32 C. Day 82.
We were on a six hour shore excursion this morning, on the bus and away shortly after 8:35. We returned six hours later.
You must think that I am a naysayer, but I am sorry to report, that in spite of what we read, this place is a terrible place to visit, let alone live: In my humble opinion. The weather may be pleasant but you can see the divide between well-to-do and ordinary hard working people who live in tiny, terrible tin shacks, and there are lots and lots of them. It was absolutely heart wrenching to drive by hundreds and hundreds of shacks where people live and their kids play in what we would consider unfit conditions.
Litter! The Litter situation in the slums is sickening. The litter seems to be invisible to the locals. However in upper class areas, it is certainly not so bad. Rather than sit here and moan about the terrible conditions of the lower class, I will tell you how are day went.
We drove out to Banco National Park after having a very quick peek at some downtown, tall buildings and a new bridge under construction, showcasing the illusion of a 'Developing Nation' as they call it. That took 15 minutes maybe. Two busloads, so maybe 70 people were in two busses for this tour. Inside the park, those that needed a toilet lined up for a unisex toilet. Things went downhill from there. The group that did not need the toilet hiked off down the dirt road trail into the jungle.
Soon, a second group hiked off as well. Meanwhile, those needing the toilet, slowly formed a group and we eventually hiked off with a French Speaking guide and our bus guide as his interpreter. [Our bus guide did not have much of a command of English and he very often used the wrong word and also did not talk much.] However, I remembered the write up for the tour where it states that: 'This is part of the charm of touring in a developing country', so I just smile and carry on.
The humidity had to be 90% with the jungle canopy low and the heat plus some recent rain. Stories of the Bataan Death March in WWII crossed my mind. Our water was basically gone without any idea when we would get more.
The actual jungle/forest was pleasant to be in, but nothing we had not seen before. My main concern was how far is this trek? What is at the end and when is the end. It seemed to go on forever and seemed to be made-up as we went along as information from our leaders was basically non existent. The guides were pleasant and proud to be showing us stuff that they thought we would like, and I am sure most people did or did a good job of looking like they did a good job. There we a few stops after we got in the busses for the journey out of the Park that were interesting but by now the humidity had take the fun out of the trip.
We ended up in a Restaurant where all 70 of us had a sit down meal, served by black men who spoke not a word. A serving plate came out and was placed on our table. What next? Who knew? One by one a plate would be put on the table and he would walk off and do the same at another table. Eventually we had about seven plates of ‘food’ on the table. When the cooked foods came out we felt better about eating food inasmuch as the fact that we have been battling Gastro Intestinal Virus aboard the ship we were first justifiably concerned. Then the beer and soft drinks came out and suddenly spirts and volume went up quite a bit. All was good by then!
After an hour, we had forgotten about the heat and humidity and onto the busses again for a bit of a depressing ride through what seemed like endless slums.
And that is the way that I feel about my day in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, or Cote D'Ivoire which is the proper French name for it.
Sorry that this turned into a rant, but those are my thoughts as we bump our way up and around West Africa.
It's A Good Day To Be Alive And Not Live Here…
Derelict’ Colonial’ buildings, ex railway workers housing. Before they got Independence!
Fruit market.Quite a civilized one by some examples we have seen.
Just plain dense humid jungle.
The trail that had bloody cars on it about, every 10minutes. It blew the idea of a quiet walk in the jungle out the window. This fellow is from Canada, works for Holland America, we were chatting and bringing up the rear.
Bamboo. Photo taken by an Asian gent.
Today’s wildlife.
My cutie doesn’t sweat: She Glows! Wanna bet!
This Babe keeps popping up!
These Foreign Workers are washing clothes in the river. Just like in India.
Then, these guy fold them! The owners of the clothes are memorized by the workers! Yes, they are!
Jim’s Beer.
My Beer!
No comments:
Post a Comment